


Joint Interrogation

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Light Dom/sub, POV Phil Coulson, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Smut, sex with superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson really enjoys it when Skye interrogates a suspect. Like, *really* enjoys it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joint Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).



Skye raises an eyebrow at his obvious lie, and he hopes she doesn't know it's so obvious.

She needs to let this go, but she doesn't.

"I saw _your face_ back there."

"I don't know what you are talking about," Coulson says again, trying to make his expression as neutral as possible where he has failed before.

They had been questioning a suspect together – some lowlife middleman, and Skye had turned up the heat and Coulson could do nothing but admire from the background. The difference between admiring and _admiring_ was one he didn't realize he was making.

Skye crosses her arms a moment, pushing her hips forward.

"Come on, fess up."

And the day was going so well. The suspect had been an easy grab for Skye and Hunter and he had been taking point – which he prefers to being stuck with the big decisions in his office. The intel they have extracted is more valuable than they originally predicted. Coulson was feeling good about himself while they were in the interrogation room. Apparently a litte too good.

"You..." he starts. "This is not funny. I just wanted to say – good work."

" _Good work_?"

He tries stern and bossy. "I'm not sure what you want me to say here, Skye."

But she is not buying stern and bossy. She knows the real thing and she knows this is bullshit.

"You once told me I knew what made people tick," Skye says, perfectly calm. "That it was the reason I could do this job. Well, I do know what makes people tick. And right now what's making you tick is... me. I am making you tick."

He does what he always does – what has become more and more difficult of late – he runs.

 

 

"Skye... why are you in my room?" he asks, when he realizes she has followed him here, stubborn.

"Because I saw your face back there."

He turns his back to her, trying to appear casual, leaving the mission file on his desk. He's pretty sure Skye has been in his room before, but right now he can't think of a single time.

"I was happy with the way you handled the suspect, that's all," he tells her.

"Oh yeah, you were _very_ happy."

"I don't know –"

"Yes, you _do_ know."

He turns around and thinks, vaguely, about pulling rank to stop her line of inquiry, knowing he'd never to that. Specially because Skye is right. 

He does know.

He didn't want to know for a long time.

She steps into his space and the proximity makes his argument fall silent.

"Ah ha," she says and looks very youthful for a moment, he remembers the cheeky, fearless girl he picked up from a van. She's come a long way in the past three years, but Coulson still likes the cheekiness. "What does the suspect have to say in his defense?"

"He's sorry," Coulson says, and it sounds almost like a question.

Her eyes darken at his words.

She rests her chin on his shoulder, keeping him close. She's never hugged him like this, with her arms around his, rooting him on the spot.

"No, Coulson," she whispers. "Not that."

He sighs against her neck, nodding in agreement. Apologizing for this is something only a douchebag would do.

Skye steps back, freeing him, as he reaches to touch her.

"There are a million reasons why we shouldn't – why I can't..." he gets distracted, touching the curve of her shoulder. She is not normally so close, so at arms' reach, and so aparently willing to be touched. "You were very competent."

"And you like that?" 

"You learned so fast," he tells her. "You'll make a much better interrogator than me, than Bobbi."

"But I'm even better when I work with you," Skye says, and the implication is unmistakable, and the implication sends a shiver down his spine.

"I guess that's true."

"Coulson. It's okay to admit it. Were you turned on?"

He doesn't reply. It's not okay to admit that.

"I'll take that as a _yes_ ," Skye says and she looks... smug. And it's a good look on her.

She grabs the lapels of his jacket and slips it off his shoulders, letting it fall like a challenge. She kisses him next, hands wrapped around his waist. Coulson wants to grab her by the neck, thread his fingers into her hair, hold her like she's holding him, but he is too stunned to react. Scared, maybe. Skye is... Skye. He didn't know this was on the cards. She's way too important. Not just to him personally. She's too important to SHIELD. And she has gone through so much, and she's finally comfortable in her skin and confident around her team, in control. She seems happy these days. He doesn't want to add unecessary stress. He doesn't want to risk being the one who ruins all that. But he does kiss back because – what can he do? Skye opens his mouth slowly, sucking at his bottom lip in such a sweet, tentative way Coulson feels all the strength in his legs beginning to just dissolve. When she pulls back her face is still too close, too close. Skye looks at him with a dreamy expression on her face. She really wants this.

"I can't – say it," he tells her. Not that he needs to, the way Skye is pressing her body, so gently, against his, she can already notice he's half-hard from her kiss, from watching her take that suspect apart in the cell. He feels like putting in words, admitting he wants her, would mess things up, this delicate moment between them. 

"It's okay, you don't have to."

She invades the little space he has left, tangling one leg behind his knee and making him stumble backwards, until he finds himself on his back on the bed. Skye follows, with that specialist-trained flexibility. Coulson swallows back a gasp at the feeling of her weight on his lap.

"Your face back there... Do you like it when I play bad cop?" she asks, her hands pressing down on his shoulders, pushing him down on the mattress.

"Yeah."

Skye draws the line of his shoulder, until he feels her fingertips against the bare skin of his neck, then his jaw. Playfully she scrapes her nails across his cheek.

"Do you want me to play bad cop with you?"

"Yea – _yes_."

He tries to lift one hand to her face but Skye slaps it away, grabbing his wrist and pushing it down He tries to arch his body to kiss her but Skye presses down on his chest, dominant once again, the pressure of her hips on his erection making it very hard for him to think about how risky all this is, what a great mistake they might be making. Skye seems oddly unconcerned for her, she's busy undoing the buttons of his shirt with her brow furrowed in concentration, using one hand, the other still holding Coulson's arm down. She only lets him move when she needs him to help her get the shirt off him. She leans back a bit, sitting on his thighs and leaving her hand on his shoulder, like a warning that he shouldn't sit up. 

"Do you have handcuffs?" she asks.

"Not in here," Coulson confesses, with a disappointed sigh.

"It's okay I'll improvise." There's a malicious twinkle in her eye as she looks around the room. "A good interrogator uses the tools _at hand_. You told me that once."

She moves her hand down his chest slowly, until it comes to rest over his buckle. Coulson thinks he swallows audibly at that. Skye smirks as she unbuckles him and slips the belt off. She's pretty good at improvisation – he takes pride in that. She holds the belt in her hands, wrapping it around her knuckle and tensing the material.

"Scoot, sit there," she tells him.

Coulson obeys, crawling towards the pillow.

"Lift your arms."

He presses the back of his hands against the headboard, getting exactly what she means to do. He doesn't ask if she's done it before – the way she traps his wrists with the belt seems expert enough, but it can be her natural instinct. The leather digging into tender skin is the right amount of uncomfortable on one side and arousing on the other.

"You should always put the suspect in the position you want, not in the position they want," she says, tugging at the belt to make sure it will hold. "You taught me that."

She's closer than she's ever been, as she props herself on her knees to tie his hands. Closer than she's ever been to him, outside of hurried hugs and other fleeting situations. He can smell her neck. She gives him a tiny questioning look, for all her confidence, needing to know this is okay, she's not hurting him or anything. Coulson nods. He would like to explain he wouldn't do this with a new partner, but he trusts her so much. If there is one person he trusts in this damned world, that's Skye. In here as in out there. 

Skye dips her head to kiss him, while scraping her nails against the sensitive skin of the inside of Coulson's arm. Her mouth is slow and brutal. This kiss is different. No longer the fragile animal of their first one. Skye just takes what she wants this time. Her hands greedy as well; she slips her fingers under his t-shirt, running them up his stomach to his chest, trying to make the line of his scar. Coulson pulls away from the kiss, turning his head.

"Too fast," he gasps.

She stops, studying his face. She nods, dropping her hand and just feeling for the trail of hair down his belly, caressing him softly. She kisses his neck, sucking a tender spot until Coulson lets out a noise of agreement. He can't completely relax, though. He's too curious about what she'll do. Part of him would love to be untied so he can hold her and show her how he feels. But a more pressing part of him believes there is less of a chance of him messing things up if she is calling the shots. 

"You don't _extract_ information from a suspect," she says. "You have to convince him it was his idea to give the information in the first place. So, Coulson. Do you feel like _giving up_ information to me?"

"I think I've given you enough already," he replies.

"You think so? Do you often get turned on seeing me perform my SHIELD obligations."

He recoils at the implication.

"I'm not – _I'm not_ a bad person."

She smiles sadly at him. "Coulson..." She kisses him. He can't get enough of it, Skye kissing him, except he has to accept what she gives him, he can't keep her here, he can't reach out for her. That might not be a bad thing. He feels somewhat exonerated of guilt, by Skye making the calls here; maybe she knows this, maybe that's way. She breaks the kiss. "Of course you're not a bad person."

"You're a brilliant agent," he sighs.

"Thanks."

"When I think about your intelligence, your strength... how brave you can be."

He hears his voice like something alien to him, coming from somewhere else.

She smiles again, touched like all those things aren't evident. She moves up on his lap, bringing her hand between them and palming his erection through his pants. He lets out a pained groan.

"Yes, it's obvious you think I'm a _really_ brilliant agent."

"And a pitiless interrogator," Coulson says.

"Let me get that for you."

She palms his hard-on a couple of times to release tension and then she unbuttons his pants, hooking her fingers into the waist and pulling down, underwear as well, down to just above the knees. This incapacitates Coulson even more, as he can't freely move his legs anymore.

Skye stares at his cock, like she is considering whether to give her approval or not.

She turns away and climbs out the bed. Coulson's gaze follows her, confused, until he realizes she just wanted to take off her pants. She sides her belt off with a swift gesture and Coulson wonders if, someday, she would let him tie her up like this. He knows Skye has a much harder time relinquinshing control than he does, and the reasons are not subtle. But he thinks he can make her feel good. And then he realizes he's a fool because here he is _planning_ for the future, when he hasn't even asked if Skye wants a future out of this.

"What?" she asks, climbing into bed again. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shakes his head slightly. "I don't want to ruin the moment. I'll tell you later."

Skye narrows her eyes a bit, but she lets him be. She presses the palm of her hand against her stomach, lifting her t-shirt a bit. Coulson can see the outline of her scars. It's been such a long time and so many, even more terrible things have happened, that he sometimes forgets they're there.

He watches her hand slip under the band of her panties.

"That's a... novel approach to interrogation," he says.

"Effective?" she asks.

Coulson shifts on the bed; since he can't do anything about his hands he'll have maneuver his legs to achieve some much-needed friction. He can tell the exact moment Skye pushes her fingers inside.

" _Very_ effective," he sighs.

Her laughter is a blinding shaft of light. It fills the room and it fills Coulson's body. He can feel his cock pressing more insistently against his stomach at the sound.

Skye is pretty good at reading people, but she's scaringly good at reading him... Was she able to tell? That this is of his preferences, watching his lovers pleasuring themselves? And he has a pretty good imagination but nothing can match the sight before him. From her flushed cheeks to her white knuckles as she twists her fingers, he is enthralled. Skye is so familiar yet so unknowable. It feels almost inadequate to use the word lover. And they are not lovers yet. Technically they're not.

As her arousal builds up she shifts closer to him, twisting her free hand into the shoulder of his t-shirt, needing an anchor. "Fuck," she mutters, eyes tightly shut and kissing him as she comes, biting down on his bottom lip and it hurts just the right way.

Watching her come down from her orgasm is almost as incredible at watching her rush towards it. Locks of her hair stuck to her damp forehead, the mouth half open, the chest rising and falling. Coulson knew she wa gorgeous, he didn't know she was this gorgeous. He smirks at seeing her like this, loose-limbed and not entirely in control.

"That was interesting," he tells her.

"Yeah, well," Skye drops her head to his shoulder, like she's suddenly embarrassed. "It's been a while for me and I didn't want for this to be... uh, difficult. Like, technically difficult. TMI, right?"

Coulson shakes his head. He's charmed by her sincerity, her trust.

"You?" she asks.

Coulson wonders if she hasn't felt like it wasn't safe, before, like her powers had actually put too much pressure for her to try a sexual relationship until now. He spends a lot of time considering Skye, but he hadn't thought about this possibility.

"A long time for me too," he admits. "I'll do what I can but don't expect fireworks..."

She shakes her head, cutting him off. "I'm not expecting anything other than–"

She stops herself and leans over to place a single, soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. She slips off her underwear as she kisses him, but then again Skye's always been a multi-tasker.

She moves closer to him.

Coulson knows what comes next, where they are heading to. He wonders if he is ready. He draws a short, panicked breath.

"Are you okay with this?" she asks, turning serious for a moment.

Coulson swallows. Too much emotion. It's not the sex, of course. It's everything else. He gives her a nod, hoping that's enough. And Skye can do tender, too, because she takes his head in his hands for a moment and slides her mouth against his.

"Yes?"

He nods again. More convincingly this time.

She touches his hair and his shoulders relax for the first time. He feels safe.

"Do you have condoms?" she asks.

"Y-yes," he says, thanking his absurd whim of keeping condoms in his room, he feels like a fucking genius right now. "First drawer."

Skye disentangles her body from him and he watches her walk around the bed.

"I don't know why I have them," he says while Skye takes the wrapping off the box – pathetic – and fishes a couple of condoms out of it. "It's not like I thought I'd be using–"

"Volunteering information you weren't asked about?" Skye comments, a disapproving look on her face. Is it real or is she just playing? "Very helpful of the suspect. But it's not information I need."

She comes back to his side, mouth first, wrapping him in the warmth of a passionate kiss.

She climbs onto his lap, making an appreciative noise at the roughness of his skin against the inside of her thighs. Coulson can feel her, hot and wet and orgasm-ready and he strains against the belt in anticipation. Skye can tell and she rolls the condom down his cock very slowly, teasing him. Afterwards she gives him a moment to adjust. He calls her name. Skye wraps his hand around his cock and guides him inside her. Now she gives herself a moment, getting used to him. She rests her hands on his stomach, using him for balance as she starts to rock her hips. Coulson can't really move, between the belt holding him to the bed, and the pants high on his legs, and maybe it's better than he can't move and is left trying to roll his hips against Skye's rhythm. He would probably go too fast, and the not having had sex in a long time is a problem, suddenly overwhelmed by intimacy with another human being, chasing the feeling that's building up, uncoiling at the bottom of his stomach.

"Good, right?" Skye asks, grinning at his his obvious helplessness.

Coulson laughs out loud, nodding and leaning forward to catch her mouth.

It's a very strange moment to realize he's having sex with Skye, not just anyone, with his trusted _subordinate_ and he remembers all the accusing phrasing in the non-fraternization rules about situations like this one, but he must be remembering wrong, he realizes, he must be remembering from another life because New SHIELD does not have non-fraternization rules whatsoever and he wonders if he was hesistant to put any in the rulebook because of this, because he somehow know, because he's been callous and –

"How long have you felt like this?" Skye is asking, voice cutting through his thoughts.

"Like..."

"Like I'm such a good interrogator."

And no, he hasn't been callous. He doesn't want to think about this as something suspect. To him this is, in a weird way, pure.

"You always had potential," he confesses. "But I didn't – I couldn't."

"Before or after San Juan?" she asks, turning serious for a moment. Meaning before or after her transformation. Maybe that's an important distinction to make, important for her.

"I don't know," he admits. Things have changed a lot since San Juan, Skye herself most of all, and his relationship with Skye has always been about change. If he tries to pinpoint the exact moment something clicked he might go crazy. There might even not be such a moment.

Skye seems to accept the answer, seems to suspect his honesty. She grabs Coulson's hips to lean forward, changing the angle to hit the perfect spot for both of them. 

"I think I was always curious, I always wanted to interrogate you," she tells him. "But I thought it might not be possible. That maybe all you wanted was to... teach me."

He chuckles, finding the whole thing odd and surreal, the language of it. Perhaps they need it. Perhaps they are too careful and too carefully concealed, they don't want their hearts too exposed just yet.

"I think you're the one giving me a lesson here," he tells her.

"Maybe you deserve it."

She clenches around him, almost viciously. The air knocked out of his lungs, Coulson sees white for a moment.

It drives him mad that he can't touch her with his hands.

Like she understands his frustration Skye starts touching him. Everything slows down. She runs her fingers through his hair gently, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck. She touches her mouth to the inside of his arm. She kisses him above his eyebrows.

"Too slow," he says, bucking his hips in an attempt to pick up the pace, but Skye has him in her grip, legs hooked around his thighs, and bearing down on him.

"Slow is good," she tells him, unusually reflective, considering how she's been all afternoon. "I could use some slow right now."

It's as close as someone like Skye comes to asking for something like this. She touches her mouth to his, this time waiting for him to take the initiative. He kisses her deep, and full of feeling, like he suspects Skye wants to be kissed by him right now. Could she be in love with him? He'd like to ask her.

Skye smiles against him, tilts her head and nuzzles Coulson's cheek with her nose, a curiously girlish gesture Coulson was not expecting from her.

Then she gazes up at the belt restraining his hands.

"I didn't imagine our first time would be so–"

"I didn't imagine we'd have a first time," Coulson admits. "Would be so what?"

She shrugs.

" _Kinky_? You're a pretty strange guy, Phil."

She smiles warmly, like she is asking him if he likes it, his first name on her lips.

"You're a pretty strange girl," he replies. She was the one who had the idea of the handcuffs first.

"That I can't argue with."

When she comes a second time it's without that much fury, sighing happily against Coulson's neck. He can feel her heartbeat in the aftershocks around him, tugging him in, the sweet pressure at the base of his cock as he feels himself close to the edge.

But then Skye stops that.

She climbs off him and Coulson feels a pang of hopelessness when his cock slips out. He doesn't ever want to be anywhere else but in Skye's arms, and inside her, and tied up by her, and at her mercy.

"What – what are you doing?" he asks, pathetic.

She slips the condom off him and goes to the bathroom to throw it away. Coulson waits with his eyes shut. He was so close to coming. He tries to draw long, soothing breaths to stop himself, to regain some semblance of dignity before Skye comes back.

"You've given me such good intel," she says. "You deserve a reward."

She sits by his side, one leg lazily thrown over his. Coulson bites his bottom lip – still sore from Skye's first orgasm – when she takes him in her hand and begins to stroke his cock very slowly. He feels a moment of piercing regret knowing this will be over soon. He would have wanted this to go on forever – except the position is beginning to tired him out a bit, his arms getting a bit stiff. 

Skye stops her movements, holding him in place, and Coulson's eyes open, glaring at her in confusion. He's so close.

"I could use my powers," Skye says. "Would you like that?"

He sucks in a breath.

Skye widens her eyes at him.

"Wow," she says. "That's a pretty telling reaction. Have you thought about this before?"

He's about to sign his confession. Not when Skye was still struggling with her new abilities. Not when she was in pain. But later, when she started – taking pride in them. He admits it, god, he admits it.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

"Watching you do what you do... on the field. It's impressive. You're impressive. I'm sorry."

"Close your eyes," she tells him.

He does.

"I'm not even going to touch you."

Fuck.

It happens too quickly.

He doesn't know how to explain it. He can feel Skye's mind, not just commanding the elements – he had felt that on the field, the presence of her force of will remaking the world around him – but his own body too. It's a sense of loss of control not unlike when he was pushed to carve, and at the same time it's the absolute opposite. He can feel the benevolence and care Skye is using on him.

It happens too quickly but it starts slowly, a tickling feeling in his navel, and the sensation of the bed shaking underneath before he realizes he's the one shaking here.

He doesn't have time to process what's happening before it's over.

He pulls at the belt, and swear words and endearments both start spilling from his mouth.

He thinks he might have lost consciousness for a moment here, because the next thing he knows it's that Skye is looking at him with a smug grin on her face – smug looks _gorgeous_ on her – and he's come all over his stomach.

"That was okay, right? It wasn't creepy or anything?" Skye says. She is biting the inside of her cheek, worried about his reaction.

"What?" Coulson still can't breathe, still coming down. " _Creepy_? God, no, I just–"

"You what?"

" _Skye_ ," he pants. He thinks she might kill him, the sweetest death in custody ever.

She kisses him. He is still coming down, half shivering, unable to recover. His lips tremble against Skye's confident lips.

"You're a mess," she says, smiling at his state. "I'll get something to clean you up."

He strains against the belt again. That is not a fantasy he has ever had in his life. Until now, he guesses. Maybe he just has all and any fantasy regarding Skye, he's beginning to think that might be it.

She climbs off him. He misses the weight already.

"You're not going to untie me?" he asks, the pressure of the leather against his hands deliciously uncomfortable.

"Not yet," Skye tells him.

He loves her.

 

 

She kisses the inside of his wrist, sucking on the pulse point, the marks of the belt already beginning to fade.

"That doesn't feel much like a bad cop," Coulson comments.

Skye lifts her head to look at him. "Well, the suspect has been very... cooperative."

"Your methods were very effective," he mutters into her mouth, dropping to kiss her. "Very... _strict_."

"The suspect needed the discipline."

Coulson laughs. They are not particularly smooth at this, are they. They are clumsy and innocent.

"Did you get all the information you needed?" he asks, threading his hands into Skye's hair. She's resting her head on his stomach, having made him take off his ruined t-shirt. He still feels a bit too exposed, being naked in front of her, but that'll pass with time.

"Yes, I got all the information," she replies. "But it was mostly stuff I knew beforehand."

"Yes?"

"Oh yes. The suspect hadn't been very subtle in his criminal activities."

"Uh?"

He's a bit wounded in his pride; he thought he had kept his feelings for Skye pretty well-hidden. Hell, he even bought that party line himself.

"I love you, too," she tells him.

"But I didn't say – _okay_."

She chuckles against his hip.

"Oh shit. What time is it?"

"Mmm, four?"

"Shit," she repeats, sitting up in bed. "I promised Mack I'd help with personnel reviews."

"Did you lose a bet?" Coulson asks. "You lost a bet. Right?"

She rolls her eyes at him. She climbs out, and Coulson already misses the warmth of her body against his. She fishes her clothes from all around the bed. When she sits to put on her boots Coulson reaches a tentative hand to her back. She makes a pleased sound and the touch and Coulson sits up, excited about the approval. He tries something more, kissing the back of her neck as she finishes zipping her boots. "Nice," she mutters. But then she stands up, in a hurry. He gets it. They don't want the rest noticing their absence and coming here looking for them.

Coulson sits on the edge of the bed, while Skye, already dressed, stands between his knees, leaning over to give him a quick last kiss.

"What was that you wanted to ask? Before?" she says.

"Mmm?"

"You said you'd ask me later."

He looks up at her.

He already has his answer.

"Nothing," he tells her. "See you later?"

"You bet," Skye replies, patting his hair tenderly for a moment, before turning around and walking out of his room.

When she's gone Coulson lies on his back, trying to make sense of it all.

All this because his face betrayed him in the interrogation room.

Well, maybe wearing your heart on your sleeve is not so bad after all.

Because here he is, _planning_ for the future. And it might be silly but at least he knows Skye wants that future, too.


End file.
